


Tired (but never tired of you)

by Devilish_lokibus



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, and jaskier has so much energy... i envy him a bit tbh, geralt is Big Tired here, i tried a bit of humour but don't quote me on that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29976756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilish_lokibus/pseuds/Devilish_lokibus
Summary: Geralt is wet and tired after a fight and simply acts before thinking about it. Kisses and cuddles ensue."Ah, Geralt!" His voice was far too cheery for Geralt's weary head. "You're back later than I th- oh, seems like you've got a bit of water... there."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 231





	Tired (but never tired of you)

**Author's Note:**

> okay so they obviously kiss.  
> (very small warning, just because i know some people are icked out by this: Geralt doesn't ask Jaskier before kissing him. he just does.)

Geralt really should have slept more this past week, because now he was paying for it. The fight had taken him more energy than what would've been appropriate for a few scraggly drowners. And then, one had caught him slightly off-balance after he had nearly slipped on a wet rock which he had missed because his mind told him relentlessly to go to sleep.

Naturally, he had fallen into the water, just like one would expect of a highly trained witcher. So now, Geralt was sopping wet on top of being bone-tired; his least favourite combination of annoying predicaments. Thankfully, the only thing left to do was to go back to his room at the inn, strip off his soggy clothes, and fall face first onto the probably patchy mattress and into a hopefully dreamless sleep.

But whatever gods had kept him awake the past nights had different plans entirely. Geralt could hear the bard puttering around their tiny chamber, singing to himself and, if the loud footsteps were anything to go by, dancing. It was only fitting that Jaskier picked this exact day to be more energetic than Geralt had been in the past year.

Inwardly, he groaned. There wouldn't be any sleep this afternoon, not with all those noises. He knew Jaskier couldn't help it; it was simply one of his quirks or moods or whatever he liked to call it, and there was no ill intention behind it. Nevertheless that also meant the bard couldn't stop his restlessness, having to give into the compelling need to hum, dance, compose, or chatter about everything and nothing. Well, at least Geralt would have the chance to lay down and let his body rest, even if his mind couldn't.

When the witcher opened the door to their room, Jaskier was just completing some kind of pirouette, the movement’s name eluding him at the moment.

"Ah, Geralt!" His voice was far too cheery for Geralt's weary head. "You're back later than I th- oh, seems like you've got a bit of water... there." His hand motioned for Geralt's entire body, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips like he himself had been dancing around the room mere seconds ago. Jaskier’s smile didn't dim even though the only answer he received was something between a displeased hum and a grunt.

"Well, you're in great luck, my dear! I've already lit a fire and your pack was standing quite nearby, so your clothes should be warmed a little! But let me help you with all of those pesky buckles, you look so tired, wouldn't want you to fall asleep in that," another wave indicating mostly everything about Geralt's appearance.

Who exactly closed the distance between them, Geralt didn't know. Most likely Jaskier, as Geralt's feet were heavier than boulders and the only thought on his mind was simply dropping to the ground without moving another inch. Now that all threats had been slayed and there was no one left except Jaskier, his exhaustion tried everything to envelop him in a bone-crushing hug. He didn't even notice he was already down to his braies until Jaskier suddenly reappeared before him. When had he left? At least the shirt in his hands looked like Geralt's, and was soon slipped over his head. The steady stream of words never stopped effortlessly pouring from Jaskier's lips. Full lips. Beautiful lips.

“-y are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my mouth? Tell me where?” The voice filtered through slowly, his mind somewhere else. Jaskier wiped at his mouth, only reddening the skin further.

Geralt caught himself, shaking his head, and lifted his stare up to the bard’s eyes.

Beautiful eyes. He would never be able to describe their breathtakingly blue colour, so he settled with beautiful. He knew what ‘beautiful’ was to him, he didn't have to think any more than strictly necessary, which was good because he needed all of his thoughts together to keep himself from falling asleep upright.

"-ralt? Geralt? Ah, there you are again! I thought you were going to drift off there and I really don't want to have to carry you to the bed, all those blessed muscles are quite heavy, you know, and as much as I like y- them, I need my spine intact for a little while longer... Stay awake, love, come on-" Jaskier kept on talking, so Geralt's eyes dropped to his lips again, those beautiful lips—

Before he knew what happened, he leaned forward and brushed his lips over the corner of Jaskier's mouth. Who now stared at Geralt with wide eyes, as if he'd suddenly grown another head that was now reciting poetry. His loss for words was glaringly obvious. Then he seemed to find his wits. Geralt's own mind was drawing a blank.

"Not- not that I didn't absolutely enjoy that, my dear, but wha-"

Before Geralt could spend any more thoughts on his actions, and risk regretting this endeavour forever, he let his hands move on their own accord. Cradling the bard's face as gently as he could, he brought their mouths together for another kiss.

Jaskier's surprise quickly melted into a quiet groan as he brought his own hands up to carefully tangle his fingers in white hair and turn his head slightly to deepen the kiss.

When they broke apart to breathe, Geralt let his head fall forward to rest on the bard's shoulder without thought, nosing at the pleasantly warm skin of his neck.

"Okay, dear, before you do that again— what?" he asked as Geralt let out an amused huff.

"Bed. Sleep. Questions later, Jaskier," his speech was slurring, but he couldn't bring himself to put more effort into it.

"Well... alright, that sounds like a plan. But we're going to talk about this, don't you think you’ll get around that!" When he got a pleased hum for an answer, Jaskier smiled to himself. "Then off to bed!"

Slowly, he walked them to the straw mattress, keeping an arm around Geralt, and curled around him after falling onto the covers with a sigh. His hand moved to push a strand of hair from the witcher's face and stayed there when it earned him another content hum. As a belated thought, he let his eyes wander over Geralt's relaxed expression, having forgotten that he _could_ now, and let out a startled noise when golden eyes suddenly peered back at him. Meeting his gaze without hesitation.

"Stay?" his voice sounded unsure, at least that's what Jaskier guessed it was, as Geralt _never_ sounded unsure.

"Oh, my love," Jaskier's voice didn't seem like his own, either. It was as if something had lodged itself in his throat. Maybe his heart? It _was_ trying stubbornly to escape his chest. "As long as you'll have me."

A tiny smile pulled at Geralt's mouth, eyes slipping closed once more. "Forever, then."

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr here <https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lokibus>


End file.
